Compendium
by LJ9
Summary: Miscellaneous Mericcup one-shots that don't deserve to be their own entries but that I want to post here all the same.
1. Fire Alarm

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em.

From a post on Tumblr by iggycat: "Someone needs to write a 'the fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear' AU"

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><p>The noise was like a thousand soprano jackhammers encircling her bed. Merida ignored it for as long as she could, knowing in her gut that it was just a false alarm, or someone's late-night munchies gone wrong, but eventually she slid from her bed, plucked her mobile from the nightstand, and slipped a pair of still-tied trainers on. Before she locked the door behind her she grabbed the old bathrobe from its peg. It was probably warm enough out that she wouldn't need it, but it was a hand-me-down from her mum, embroidered with Elinor's initials, and Merida loved it. So she belted it securely over the tank top and shorts that served as pajamas and made her way down the stairs, alarm screeching in her ears as she went.<p>

It was warm enough. She could find it in herself—deep, deep down—to be thankful for that small favor as she pushed the sleeves of the robe up to her elbows. The air smelled faintly of the taco truck that had been parked down the street that evening, and her stomach rumbled in response; there was no scent of smoke in the air, though, and no crackling of flames. She yawned hugely and kneaded her stomach, joining her neighbors where they stood across the street from their very much not on fire building. To distract herself from thoughts of carne asada she propped herself against the corner of the nail salon and took roll of her neighbors through gritty eyes.

The blond twins from upstairs were leaning against each other, both half-asleep and drooling. They didn't look singed, but she'd pin the alarm on them before anyone else. Mrs. Lin clutched a big handbag close, looking around warily; Merida saw a little nose poke out before the woman turned away, head bent over the bag. So _that_ was the source of the phantom yipping she sometimes heard on quiet days. Balancing on the edge of the curb was the kid who was always skateboarding, wearing an oversized shirt as usual, and there was the couple who'd just moved in on the third floor, in matching Superman and Wonder Woman pajamas and looking a little embarrassed, and half hidden in the shadows between the nail salon and the check-cashing place, wearing nothing but a pair of blue boxers, was the guy next door. Henryk, she thought his name was, though on more than one occasion she'd heard the twins bellowing out the window at a Hiccup when he was on the sidewalk below.

Out of the corner of her eye she appraised him. His arms were crossed over his stomach, trying to cover more of himself than they possibly could; she got a glimpse of a firm midsection and a light trail of hair disappearing into the waistband of his shorts. He stood at an angle, hips canted so that his left side fell more deeply into shadow than his right. The whole effect, shadow and shirtlessness, was almost rakish.

She'd always thought he was cute, with his earnest if somewhat distracted air whenever they passed in the hall, and his little smile—hell, she'd admitted as much to her mum, though she'd failed to follow orders and introduce herself like a good neighbor. Now, somehow, with so much more of him revealed, she realized how little about him she knew, and how much she'd like to know. Her hand pressed into her stomach, though it had no effect on the weak fluttering she felt there.

But it was the hair that did her in. His hair was never perfectly coiffed to being with; she remembered seeing him running his hand through it as he sat in the laundry room, a book open in his lap and a pen tapping against his thigh as he waited for a free washing machine. Now it was in an absolute state, sticking up at more angles than even she would have thought possible. It was impossible to perv on someone with adorable hair like that. She bit her lip, just managing to keep the giggle from escaping.

Poor lad, he must've had a worse time with the alarm than she did. There was really no reason for him to be hiding—at least, she saw nothing that he ought to be ashamed of—but he was so obviously uncomfortable. Of their own accord her fingers drummed against her stomach; her eyes fell on them, and the material they thudded over.

She shrugged out of the robe and held it out to him with a soft "Here," able to meet his wide-eyed gaze for only a moment before her eyes flicked away shyly. He looked from her face to the garment and back, and for a moment she thought he'd refuse. Then he reached for it. The worn softness of the fabric slid over her fingertips as he took it; when she looked he was pulling the robe on, and she got one last delicious view of the muscles of his torso at work before they disappeared beneath purple flannel. It fit snugly across the shoulders, but the belt had plenty of slack around his waist. This time she didn't fight the smile, didn't even question the warmth of it.

"Thanks," he said. "I'm Hiccup, by the way."

"Merida." Her smile twitched into a grin as she nodded at the bathrobe. "It suits you."

"Really? I didn't think it was my color." He smoothed down the robe's lapels and shot her a look, one eyebrow cocked in question.

She shook her head. "Nah, it's lovely on you."

The time passed quickly as they talked. A single fire engine arrived to disgorge a few firefighters, who trudged into the building. The alarm finally stopped then, causing Merida to let out a quiet cheer. Soon they were told they could return to their flats; when they reached the seventh floor Hiccup stopped outside her door and removed the robe. "Thanks again," he said as he handed it back to her, that disarming smile on his face and the lazy wheeling of butterflies in her stomach again. Slumped against the door jamb she watched him take the few steps to his own door; he patted his hips, where his pockets would be if he were wearing pants, and she laughed.

She would forever blame the words on sleep deprivation, even when she knew full well that they owed more to the way his shoulders moved and his sleepy little yawn. "If I'd known it was this easy to get you nearly naked I would've pulled the fire alarm ages ago."

He froze with his hand on the doorknob and she had a clear view of the flush creeping up his neck. She felt heat suffuse her cheeks, too, but she didn't take it back. After a pause Hiccup turned to look at her.

"Hey, maybe next time you'll get lucky." He shrugged, and though the little quirk of his lips hinted at self-deprecation, there was a glint in his eyes that was almost keen. Without another word he disappeared into his flat.

Before Merida had the chance to begin to feel disappointed he poked his head back out, and her heart skipped all over again at the sight of his tousled hair. "Or maybe next time…you could just ask."

She grinned. Maybe next time she would.


	2. Wet Ink

"Give me your hand," she commanded, and he wiped his palm against his trousers as surreptitiously as he could manage before extending his arm. She hadn't noticed before how long his fingers were, and there was a throbbing in her chest as she grabbed his hand, smoothing it open with a gentleness that almost frightened her. She concentrated on writing the numbers as legibly as she could; though her handwriting was a mess at the best of times, and the creases and little scars across his skin were unaccountably distracting, she wanted to make sure he could read it.

His lungs had stopped working, but the nerve endings in his hand had gone into overdrive. While her right hand was busy writing, her left was beneath his, holding it steady, her fingertips cool against the back of his hand, her thumb hooked around the base of his to keep it out of the way. He didn't dare move, not when he could feel her breath on his wrist, could smell something more her than the scent of shampoo from her piled-up hair. Now that her attention was elsewhere he could stare freely at the pale curve of her neck, nearly glowing in the dim light.

She clicked the pen and reached one hand up to shove it into her hair, heedless of the possible damage to her up-do. Hiccup felt both relieved and disappointed: once she let go he'd be able to breathe again, but by this point he was starting to think that respiration was overrated. She still hadn't relinquished her hold, though, and now cupped his hand in both of hers.

All she could see from the corner of her eye was the black of his dress shirt and the red of his tie. And to think she'd protested when her roommate had dragged her along to this party. There would've been much less grumbling if she'd known he would be there, and especially if she'd known he would at some point take off his jacket and roll his sleeves up. That sight was worth the struggle getting into this dress had been. She took a breath, licked her lips, and blew softly over the ink on his palm.

Hiccup's knees nearly buckled. Was this the same person as the girl who, on their first weekend there freshman year, had accidentally knocked him down and then hauled him to his feet with a cheerful "Up you get" before dashing back into the soccer game? He'd been slipping all along, feeling the pull of her every time they talked; he hadn't thought she felt the same, not until the girl who was somehow Merida but was wearing that dress had walked up to him and taken his hand to hold like it was made of glass.

She hadn't recognized the feeling for the longest time, not even when the sound of his laugh made her smile, or when he'd held the door for her with a swooping bow and her heart had stumbled over itself. And then one day she'd known, with as much certainty as she knew the way home.

This last part would be the hardest. She looked up, but at his ear, because heaven help her, if she looked him in the eye now, she wouldn't make it. "Call me," she said, though on second thought, it might've been more of a request than an order.

"I will." She bit her lip; her eyes slid to his face and the world spun.

Another moment too long and she dropped her hands. At his smile her stomach dipped, and dipped further still as she watched him make his way through the crowd. She tracked his progress until he disappeared, and she sniffled, and shook her hands helplessly against the tingling in them.

Then there was a buzz against her hip. She ducked into a quiet room to answer, though she still had to raise her voice. "Hello?"

"You probably didn't mean to call this soon," he said, sounding sheepish, "but I couldn't wait."

She was already pushing through the party, ducking toward the door and throwing it open, hurrying to where he stood on the sidewalk, frowning down at his phone until he saw her. This time he was the one who took her hand, and this time there was no reason to let go.


	3. Snow Day

I know this is really uneven and a bit odd, but hopefully some of you will enjoy it nonetheless.

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><p>As Hiccup woke there was a kind of stretched-out ache just below his left knee. That was a good sign, especially punctuated as it was by a gentle throb. He reached blindly for his phone and held his breath. There was the little blink that said a text message awaited, and there were the magic words: Schools closed because of snow. Good old weather-predicting stump. As he turned off his alarm a damp nose pressed against his forearm. After a moment of peering at the door to see if his dad was coming to wake him he murmured, "Okay, bud," and Toothless leapt nimbly up and wriggled into the space between him and the wall. Hiccup snuggled back under the covers and shut his eyes, listening to Toothless' breathing and the hiss of snow outside.<p>

The next time he woke it was to his stomach growling. No wonder he was hungry, he thought with a glance at the clock on the microwave, it was nearly eleven. His dad was at work and the streets had been plowed; the sky was cheery blue and the world looked sugar-glazed. He ate a bowl of cereal staring out the window. By the time he'd brushed his teeth and dressed Toothless was waiting by the back door with an eagerly lolling tongue. "You ready?" Hiccup asked, tucking a leash into his pocket just in case and pulling the trapper hat down firmly over his ears. Toothless huffed. "Then let's go."

The dog bounded ahead toward the trees at the back of their property. They could go to one of the parks, where Hiccup's classmates and friends would almost certainly be gathered, pelting each other with snowballs and sliding down the big hill; but he could also just follow Toothless into the trees, where there was less snow to slow down non-standard legs. They wandered through the woods, their breath hanging mistily in the air. After some ten minutes Toothless gamboled out into the clearing that someone from the town had optimistically declared a park; there were a few benches, a picnic table and a trash bin, but little else. It was usually a good place to go to be alone, since no one really wanted to walk so far out of the way to hang out there. Now it was occupied by the biggest snowman Hiccup had ever seen.

The thing was at least the size of his dad. He stared up at it in astonishment, wondering who had made it and why they'd hauled a ladder all this way, until a figure stepped around the sculpture. It was actually two people, one sitting on the other's shoulders and patting a mittenful of snow onto the snowman's head. A third person followed, dragging a sled mounded with snow. Though their brilliant hair was covered by their hats, he could still recognize the infamous DunBroch triplets, and grinned. The snow giant made sense now. Then his grin faltered. If the boys were there, that meant _she_ might be, too.

And she was, backing into view with hands on her hips as she appraised the snowman. A thick knit cap was pulled low over her ears and her hair spilled out from beneath it. Her lips curved up in satisfaction and her cheeks were flushed with cold. Hiccup's throat went dry. He pursed his lips to whistle for Toothless so they could leave before he somehow embarrassed himself in front of the girl he'd had a crush on for far too long, but he couldn't make any sound come out.

Toothless could, though, and barked a friendly greeting. Four faces turned toward him, and the unstacked triplet scratched the dog's head, saying, "Hello, boy." Hiccup moved reluctantly toward them.

"Hiccup!" Merida called, and his heart tumbled, dragging him another step forward. He was counting on the chilly air to disguise his blush.

"Hi."

The topmost boy slid down his brother's back and she circled them, all petting Toothless, to stand next to Hiccup, both of them facing the snowman. "Well, what do you think?"

He swallowed. "It's impressive. How long did it take?"

"A while." She shrugged nonchalantly. "It was worth it, though."

"Go big or go home, right?" What an idiotic thing to say. He wanted to slam his face into his palm, or the nearest tree.

But she smiled, seeming more pleased than the remark really warranted. "That's the DunBroch way."

"You guys need a picture with your creation, to show your dad. And for scale," he added. If the giant fell over, it might crush someone.

"Yeah!" Merida patted at her pockets and her face fell. "And of course I left my mobile at home."

To distract himself from the way her lower lip was poked out all pink and full, Hiccup scrabbled in the interior pocket of his jacket. "I got it," he said, producing his phone and sliding his thumb across the screen. When she grabbed his arm and squeezed, her face alight, his breath hitched.

Harris—or Hamish—climbed on his brother's shoulders again and the two stood at the snowman's right hand. Hubert (possibly) lay on the ground at the sculpture's base, propped up on one elbow, and Merida leaned gingerly against the snowman's side. "Say snow cones," Hiccup called, and they repeated in chorus with four nearly identical grins.

Once he'd snapped a few pictures Merida joined him to see the results. Before he could angle the screen toward her, she leaned over his arm to have a look. He wished then that it were summer—or not; right now he'd gladly risk hypothermia to feel her hair tickling his skin. She chuckled at the first picture, then leaned closer and screwed up her face. "Ugh, my hair," she groaned. "I'd have brushed it if I'd known I was going to see you today." Merida froze for an instant, and then stepped back. "Or, um, anybody from school."

He turned his attention from the phone to her, cocking his head to study her. "Your hair looks nice," he said, hoping it sounded as earnest as he meant it. "Nice" was an understatement, though, he thought, looking at the way it shone in the sun. To his amazement her cheeks seemed to flush a shade darker.

Did she…?

She _couldn't_—not the way he did…

Hiccup stepped toward her, and her eyes darted across his face, dropping for a split second to his lips. "If you give me your number I'll send these to you."

"Don't you have it?" she asked, voice uncharacteristically high. He shook his head, but scrolled through his contacts to double-check. "Really?"

He glanced up at her through his lashes. "I'd know if I had your phone number." He was rewarded with a breathless little laugh, and bit his lip.

"Give me that," Merida demanded, grabbing the phone. She peeled off one glove and entered her phone number; when she'd finished she shoved it back at him without meeting his gaze.

It wouldn't hurt to test his theory a little more. "Thanks," he said, voice low, and there—that was definitely a shiver. He grinned, though it turned into an "Oof" when she poked him in the ribs.

"You won't be thanking me when this is over."

He didn't get further than "When wha—" before a snowball exploded against his jacket, thrown by one of the boys. Under a hail of snowballs he ran for the nearest cover, which happened to be the trash bin; when he peeked over the top Toothless was chasing after snowballs, barking happily. "Traitor," Hiccup muttered, then knelt to pack some ammunition of his own.

It wasn't a long battle, as hopelessly outmatched as Hiccup was. None of the DunBrochs felt inclined to leave their siblings and join him, so he stayed crouched behind the bin, occasionally popping up to launch a snowball. "This isn't fair!" he cried, laughing, as one hit the edge of the bin and showered him with snow.

"All's fair in love and war," came Merida's smug reply.

After a few more halfhearted lobs Hiccup threw his hands into the air. "I give up." He stood slowly and moved from behind his shelter. The boys were cheering and high-fiving each other, and Merida laughed and whooped with them.

"Well done, lads!" she said. "You've earned your hot cocoa." With that they cheered again and headed out of the clearing, dragging the now-empty sled behind them. Toothless sat at Hiccup's feet and watched them go, ears pricked up.

Hiccup sympathized with the dog. "That was…well, it wasn't actually fun, but…yeah. Thanks for not totally annihilating me when you had the chance." He made a face that she returned. "So I guess we'll get going now."

"I meant you, too," she said quickly, still high with victory, reaching for him, her eyes bright. She caught hold of him again, and he swore that the temperature around them rose before she released his arm. "That is, if you want."

Eventually he managed to say, "Yeah, okay," and they set out on the path. The DunBrochs' house was a little closer to the park than the Haddocks'; by the time they reached the back door the boys were already inside, their boots left in a jumble in the mudroom. At Hiccup's direction Toothless primly shuffled back and forth on the mat and then suffered an inspection of his paws before being allowed into the house.

"I'll be right back," Merida said before disappearing through a doorway, and Hiccup stood awkwardly in the warm stone-floored kitchen. He ran his hands over his head, trying in vain to subdue his hat hair. When Merida came back she had changed into a sweater and leggings. This wasn't just any sweater, though; it was a hunter green patterned thing that must have been her dad's at one point, because it was so huge that it hung almost to her knees, the sleeves were rolled up, and the neckline slid down toward her shoulder.

Well. He certainly knew by now that she didn't believe in fighting fair.

She all but pushed him down onto a stool as she moved around the kitchen, fetching out pots and milk and cocoa powder and vanilla extract and spoons and mugs, all the while telling a story about trying to make breakfast for the triplets once when her mother was sick that ended with her dad having to scrape pancake batter off of the ceiling. His chuckle joined her bright laughter until he was struck dumb with the realization that this was really happening. He was actually sitting in her kitchen, laughing with her while she made hot chocolate. When she noticed his silence she caught him watching her, a thoughtful expression on his face. "What?"

"This isn't what I was expecting."

She raised an eyebrow and pointed the wooden spoon at him. "Oh? And I suppose you've got a better recipe?"

He shook his head. "I meant today. I was just going to take a walk with Toothless and now I'm here, and you…" And you were like a general leading her troops before and now you're teasing me with that shoulder. And I'm not sure that this isn't a dream—it feels like it must be, because I've never been this lucky in my life. Unable to say any of that, he gestured helplessly at her.

For a long moment she stared at him, her face solemn in a way he'd never seen before. Then, incrementally, she smiled. "You, too," she said quietly, patches of pink blooming on her cheeks, before returning her attention to the milk.

With the radar that growing boys have for food, the triplets swarmed into the kitchen the moment the cocoa was ready, and swarmed out again with their mugs full. Their departure left a silence that continued as Merida perched on a stool next to him. They sipped their cocoa together and the sun began to sink outside. He swallowed the dark dregs at the bottom of the cup, waited until he couldn't stall any longer, and then stood.

When he bent to tie his boot, she tugged the hat back on his head. "I'd go with you, but that'd mean taking those three along, too," she sighed.

"No problem. I've got Toothless to look out for me." The dog's tail thumped against the floor where he sat waiting to go out. Hiccup swung the door wide and Toothless went down the steps. He stepped down and then turned back to where she stood in the doorway, goosebumps covering her shoulder. The sky had gone a dull, heavy grey; they might be in for another snow day tomorrow. She looked warm and lively and welcoming and cozy, and he didn't stop to think before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, tasting the chocolate on them. Even better was the way she smiled into the kiss.

His leg was throbbing again as he and Toothless walked home. But all the same he paused in the clearing and looked up into the nearly-dark sky, smiling as snowflakes dropped onto his face.


End file.
